


Centre of the Heart

by Sevargs



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: Alternate Universe, But to be fair it’s manly rom com because, Day Four Themes, Fluff and Humor, M/M, Phys Ed Teacher Goku tho, Romantic Comedy, Troll Goku too, Vegeta being Vegeta (Dragon Ball), Wow rom com David?? gross, tumblr: kakavegeweek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-30
Updated: 2019-01-30
Packaged: 2019-10-19 08:56:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17598209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sevargs/pseuds/Sevargs
Summary: Vegeta thought meeting Kakarot, a coworker at the school he transferred into, would be the worst thing that he’d ever have to deal with in his whole damn life. But as it turned out; moving in, raising chickens and children with him, and introducing the big idiot to his father, proved so much more stressful.[Kakavege Week 2019 Day 4]





	1. Five More Minutes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Big shouts to dreamyghost, cosmicmewtwo and my wife (the gift from the worst divine gods). Thank you for your contribution to my madness. You deserved significantly less of my typos.   
> Title of this one is borrowed from a Roxette song because I like it. 
> 
> For Kakavege Week, Day 4. Each chapter follows one of the given themes by the order of (and some may be implied): 1 You’re An Idiot, 2. Caught Red Handed, 3. Piercings, 4. Secret Santa, 5. Long Distance Relationship.

“Kakarot, do you realize what time it is?” 

Coming out to the sudden pause of fingers tapping a keyboard, Kakarot rubbed his face and looked around for the first face of a clock he could find—straining to read the numbers. The position of the sun would easily have left him vaguely aware of the general time, but to see the exact minutes might actually shake him out of the haze of sleep and get him moving a little faster...To think he’d slept until the very last minute… Not exactly unusual, but he’d thought perhaps Kakarot would be a little more alert, knowing he had to be at the school early to handle the dealings with the guest speaker being in the gymnasium. That was his domain, after all. 

“Uh, shoot, yeah, I gotta get ready to go—Let me go wake the boys up—” The lights finally came on behind his eyes and he started to clamor for clothes, throwing himself together without much pause to check and make sure he didn’t look like he literally just untucked himself from the sheets. He always looked that way, anyhow. 

“I already sent them. You do not not even have time for breakfast, because you overslept.” 

A big frown came around the corner and faced him at the doorway to the bedroom. “Vegeta—Why didn’t you wake me—” Kakarot pouted steeply at him, more heartbroken about missing breakfast than the idea of being late for anything important. He was fumbling around with pants and a belt, trying to tuck a shirt in at the same time, while kicking shoes on and Vegeta was almost impressed by his method of multitasking his attempt at dressing himself. Almost, because it wasn’t quite working out for him. 

“I did. You rolled over and said five more minutes. I proceeded to give you five more minutes. Ten more times.” 

“...I like sleep—”

“More than breakfast?” 

The pout deepened, but he couldn’t say anything in retaliation, when he’d clearly made his choice. “I’ll just hope they have stuff in the break room...S’not like anyone even likes guest speakers—the kids don’t even listen at eight in the mornin’—” He whined, all the way into the other room and Vegeta raised a brow and continued with grading his papers. Kakarot’s involvement in the subject and being in charge of the gymnasium itself, placed responsibility on him that Vegeta was pleased to not have himself. He had enough responsibility being the adult monitoring Kakarot. 

“Hey listen—after classes are up, you wanna hit the gym today or you got more papers to grade?” Kakarot stuck his head back out the door, with a toothbrush half stuck in his mouth. 

“I have been up early this morning, so most of my work is caught up, Kakarot,” he cast him a condescending look, which earned a toothpaste covered tongue stuck out at him. 

“I guess I’m just gonna have to give you a reason to not want to get out of bed every now and then, huh,” Kakarot tilted his head up and cast a half-lidded look down at him that made him bristle defensively at him. Defensively for the sake of it being far too early for Kakarot’s suggestive nonsense. 

“You… You are….You’re an idiot, go to work, you savage,” he curled his nose, tripping over the faint remnants of the accent he still had. Kakarot had never been anything but a giant fool, but he had signed up for this at one point and he was hard pressed to back down from his own decisions. Sinking with the ship, as he could call it. He was also an idiot for having been swayed by the bigger idiot. 

Kakarot had been one of the first people he’d met coming to this new school as an instructor and his first impression had been nothing short of….how the hell was this man an educator? But Kakarot had some kind of charm about him that did something and it also helped that he didn’t have a book heavy subject matter. Physical Education was without a doubt, this man’s place. This had made Vegeta certain that he wouldn’t be bothered by him, given his own subject was so far removed from him. The Foreign language classrooms and the gymnasium weren’t even on the same side of the campus. But evidently, Kakarot had telescopic vision for well built bodies, and that had been enough to make him forcibly introduce himself at length. 

And then have to spend three weeks attempting to continue trying to talk to him after being ignored heatedly, because Vegeta couldn’t understand his damn country slang. When it took him four minutes of staring at him, trying to identify his “y’all’d’nt’ve”s—as another teacher later called them—he decided he couldn’t deal with it, and he just snuffed him repeatedly. The idiot never took the hint. 

He’d had the audacity to outwardly invite him to the weightlifting room with him after being blatantly turned away several times and Vegeta made every effort to ignore him once again. But he found out quickly that this idiot was also some kind of manipulator—that he only recognized in hindsight. When Kakarot reiterated his invite by telling him, that it was, “okay if he couldn’t lift as much as him”, he’d inadvertently suckered Vegeta successfully in one shot. It maybe took a while before he was willing to actually show himself—being reclusive and new still—but he was blazing with the competitive edge to knock Kakarot over for even attempting to suggest he couldn’t lift as much, if not more. 

When he did show up, he slapped weights on the damn bars and kept a straight face while internally relishing in the stunned face of the man who probably couldn’t believe that he could bench the absurd weight he was shoving on the bars. He’d actually even tried to stop him from putting that much on at first. Only for Vegeta to sneer, tilt his head and condescend him. What, Kakarot, you can’t lift this? 

Unintentionally, they started an extracurricular activity of competitively outdoing each other; and Kakarot was so fired up to lose to someone for once, when Vegeta out lifted him the first time. The students who stayed behind after school to use the equipment ended up standing by to watch their teacher get his ass handed to him by a man a whole head shorter than him and Vegeta felt validated for indulging his antagonism. Maybe that would shut Kakarot up. It would be worth just how damn sore he was the next day. 

The problem with that, however, was that Kakarot was more encouraged, not less. The more pressing issue came with Vegeta being unable to just let it go and learn to ignore him. When he got the damn note on his desk, with a sloppily scrawled, “is that all?”, he fell right for it. 

If he hadn’t fallen for it again, he thought—closing his laptop, to start preparing for work himself—then he wouldn’t be living with him now. Their stupid back and forth wouldn’t have gotten as intense as it had, if Vegeta had just been smarter about it and let it go. If he’d ignored him like a responsible adult, they might not have gotten into the fist fight in the locker room after everyone else was gone. 

Kakarot might not have shoved him up against the lockers. He might not have bitten him. They might not have kissed. Nothing would have spiraled out of control if Kakarot wasn’t an obsessive idiot... And if he wasn’t also just as obsessive, really. Once he had it in his mind he had to top his opponent, that was all that mattered. Sensibility be damned. 

If he had any real sensibility, he never would have moved in with him. He didn’t come to this place to get into any sort of relationship with a stubborn country boy, but he watched Kakarot hurry his way through his ten minute attempt to get himself together and realized Kakarot’s gravity was inescapable. Because, for all his dumb fumbling and rushing around, he still managed to find enough time to come over and waste it leaning over him to kiss him—even knowing he was going to get bitten for it. 

“Moron—Go to work—I will see you again in ten minutes or so—I do not have time for your tomfoolery.” He flustered at him and pushed his face away. 

“Okay, okay,” a deep yawn followed and Kakarot shook himself to wake up. Grabbing for his keys, Kakarot made for the door, only briefly turning back to him, giving a short wave and a cheeky smile that Vegeta knew he had to be on defense for. “Workouts today, ‘Geta. Or you’re forfeiting and I win,” Kakarot announced, not giving him a chance to retaliate before tossing the door open and slipping right on out and running out to his truck to try and beat the clock that he was already on a losing race against. 

Vegeta sat straighter and hissed, caught blindsided, “that fucker—”


	2. Making Implications

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Theme: Caught Red Handed

“Yes, when the semester is out, we are free for a little while. It would probably be best if you came around then...No, I’m not putting it off. There is a lot going on and there are two boys in the house who are in the middle of finals and I know guests will make them drop everything...I’m not bullshitting you. You can stay longer when we are out. There are empty rooms at the house, you can even pick the one you like the best and I will make sure I keep the chickens contained....Yes, father, I said chickens.” Vegeta sat at his desk in the empty classroom, flicking through papers absently, with his phone cradled in his shoulder. “I told you I lived a little out of the city...Maybe I did not mention it is a farmhouse, no. Yes. Yes. No. We’re not living in a damn hut—.When you meet my partner, I think you’ll understand.” 

He paused, listening to his father on the other end of the phone and exhaling a bit—thankful that their language was not exactly a fluent one in this region among most people. Even if someone walked in on him, he wouldn’t have much pressure to cover up his conversation. Instead, he could focus all of his dismay on his complete lack of work being done on his prep period. Or he would, if he wasn’t actually funneling that stress directly into the conversation at hand. Maybe he was putting off this visit. He had yet to explain Kakarot or use any pronouns when discussing with his father about his current life. 

But he had to come out eventually. It was just not a good time for it, he argued, knowing full well that Kakarot would openly welcome guests at any point if Vegeta mentioned it—which was why he hadn’t mentioned it, yet. 

Speaking of Kakarot… He looked up to see his door crack open and he sucked a breath back in, keeping to his native language to finish up his conversation, even as he waved him in. Kakarot barely spoke the common language without slurring it horrendously, like the dumb country boy that he was. Vegeta was safe to finish up without any issues, pausing only briefly to mouth that he would be a minute. “Yes, father. Yes, I’m still here. Listen, I am at work. Someone just walked in and I have things to do still. No, I’m not doing that thing where I pretend I’m busy. I really am. I will call you later. Promise. Yes. Bye.” He shook his head, holding his phone away from his head to tap the red button in the middle and disconnect the call. 

Once he was sure the line was dead and he had no listening ears outside of the nosy physical education instructor, he set the phone down and leaned back—abandoning the stack of papers he had been trying to grade when his father called him, forgetting that time zones were still a thing. “Kakarot, what are you doing, I know you have a class right now.” 

“It’s just the weight training group. An’ I got a teacher’s aid with me. Said I’d overlook them missin’ a day if they took on a little extra work today.” 

“That is...unbelievably irresponsible.” 

“Yeah, I know. Imagine missing P.E. It’s like the best class,” he replied, pulling up a chair to sit next to him, turning the back of it to face him and straddling it so he could lean his arms on the backrest. 

“I was talking about you. You already got in trouble for being late to the set up for the guest speaker yesterday. And already, you’re back on your bullshit. The only reason you get away with it, is because people are somehow tricked by your personality. One of these days, Beerus is going to show up and just randomly clap you. And I’m going to sit by and watch without attempting to defend you.” 

Kakarot frowned, leaning on the chair loosely. Within a few minutes of finding himself in Vegeta’s classroom, he was already completely comfortable and planted in place. “I don’t got a planning period in the middle of the day. How’m I supposed to come bother you?” 

“Is that not what lunch break is actually for? Prep periods are for actual work, you fool. Not for you to come bother me. As if I don’t already spend enough of my damn life around you.” 

“Says the guy using his free work period making personal phone calls to his dad.” 

Vegeta found himself accused and he had to stop and blink at him. Kakarot was not incorrect and he would be annoyed about being called out so blatantly, if he hadn’t been so alarmed that the sometime slow country boy had been able to determine who he was talking to from the tail end of the conversation. Had he accidentally slipped into the wrong language? No. His father would have commented on that. But then…? 

“Kakarot, how did you know who I was talking to?” 

“Sometimes when you an’ Trunks get goin’ on in that saiyan language o’ yers, he calls ya one of them words I thought I heard. So, I took a guess. But you confirmed I wasn’t wrong,” he pointed at him and Vegeta bristled a little. The smug “got ya” face Kakarot had when he managed to get one up on someone, made him snarl a little—curling his nose blatantly that he was the one Kakarot tripped up. 

“You can’t get mad at me skippin’ aroun’, when I caught ya red-handed chattin’ on the clock. We all do it anyway. If anyone comes in an’ asks. We’re talkin’ about work.” 

Vegeta debated on how to feel about the traumatic cornering that Kakarot put him in for another minute before he opened the drawer of his desk and shoved his phone into it—as if he thought he was hiding the evidence. He had nothing to prove, anyway. It just… didn’t need to be sitting on his desk in plain sight… “Like anyone would believe you. Our courses have nothing in common and everyone knows anything that might involve a book makes you run away.” 

“...Listen, this is why I load up the physically active courses. Students don’t wanna do a hundred papers a semester. Oh sure, I mean I have a Agriculture degree or something, I could probably do something with but, like...It’s bookworm food or, I get to run with my students and teach proper lifting techniques. What is more fun? Yeah.” He sat up enough to gesture between his hands, as if weighing his options and Vegeta shook his head, still baffled that this man managed to actually complete a degree course in anything. Let alone the two he would need to have a teaching job as well. How. 

“I don’t understand how you landed your job. I know Beerus likes you more than most, but do I really want to know how much?” 

“Hey, hey, I was married when I got the job here.” 

“I am...actually impressed that you understood what I was implying.” 

“I’m not that dense, Vegeta. I got two sons.” 

“I figured she did all the work, to be honest,” he shook his head and tried not to think too hard about it. The level at which Kakarot focused on big muscles and gushed over other men with great interest before even noticing another woman in the room, made it difficult to imagine he had a wife at all. It was how he had badgered Vegeta nearly to death. But, if anything, at least Goten—his younger child—could not be anyone else’s blood. He was a spitting image of his father. 

“Well most of it...Yeah, but girl parts aren’t that bad...I just like yours more ‘s all.” 

Vegeta swallowed awkwardly, suddenly—choking at his sudden turn in the topic and he coughed viciously to clear his throat and not die in the process. Popping his head up, he cast a glance around the room, just to make sure, before he barked hotly. “Kakarot—you can’t say shit like that in the classroom—” 

“Jus’ bein’ honest. Besides, you started it—” 

“I wasn’t talking about me at all, you fool—. Besides, I’ve heard enough people say you’d put anything in your mouth at least once, I wouldn’t put it past you—” 

“Hey—Hey! At least twice, I have to give it a fair chance—” Kakarot leveled his stare with him, intently, knowing he had the win for his inability to feel any god damn shame. 

And he was right. Vegeta cracked and reached out, pushing his hand into his face and shoving him away, grateful for the chair having wheels. He could feel the smile under his palm and he scowled openly, sitting rigidly and frowning so steeply. “You fucker—Get out of my classroom—” 

“Awh, I love it when ya slip into yer little accent,” he grinned, stopping the chair with his heels. But he knew better than to wait for Vegeta to have something to say after that and he popped up out of the chair and stood. “Alright, I’ll go. For now. We workin’ out today after classes?” 

He almost yelled a negative at him, but quickly rethought it, “boxing. I want to punch you today.” The mental image he gave himself of knocking Kakarot’s head off, comforted him in the moment—even if the big idiot didn’t seem to mind. 

“Cool, I’ll come by and get’cha after clean up then. Good luck with the grading, bookworm. And tell yer dad I said hi,” he waved, stepping to the door after a long stride. Vegeta almost thought that Kakarot made a quick escape specifically to deny him the satisfaction of retaliation, but his quick disappearance made Vegeta step back and remember his father. And his father eventually meeting this man. 

Maybe he could put it off forever.


	3. Deeper Holes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Theme: Piercings

“After we leave, I’m taking the boys into town.” 

“Oh?” Kakarot paused in his lifting momentarily to raise a brow at him, adjusting his fingers and thumbs to shift the bar. Vegeta stood arched over him slightly, knowing that he’d hardly have a pressing need for him to catch the weights, but doing so anyway to err on the side of caution. Not since they’d begun their competitive back and forth, had Vegeta ever seen Kakarot lose the bar without having an absurd amount of weight on it—and neither of them were pushing themselves to their limits at the moment. They were weight training, not competing. “What’s up? You never go into town, what’d they rope ya into now?” 

“Evidently, Trunks wants to get his lip pierced and I have to be present for it because he’s underaged.” 

Kakarot raised the bar up on its hooks to rest. After a moment, he popped up on the bench and stretched his arms and shoulders out, twisting around where he sat to make eye contact with Vegeta again. The quizzical look on his face was interesting, at least. “You’re gonna let him? I’m surprised.” 

“Why? He’s old enough, I think. If he wants to put holes in his body, I suppose that’s his own business.” 

The man’s large arms lifted, crossing over the bar so he could lean up on it and watch him. Kakarot always appeared relaxed at any point—even after benching for half an hour and running his heart pretty hard. “No, I get that. It’s just...You’re kinda super reserved. So I kinda thought you’d say no ‘bout somethin’ like that.” 

For a brief moment, Vegeta had a flash of his father pass through his mind and he found a cringe start on his face in the form of a twitch. He caught himself before it fully formed and folded his arms, looking down at him with a little bit of annoyance. He was not going to pass judgment on Trunks’ unusual decision. Not like his own father would have if it were his choice and he were asking for permission. Society was a little different than it used to be and definitely different there than back at home. A silly lip ring wouldn’t shame the appearance of the family. 

“Kakarot, honestly, just because I’m not straddling chairs backwards or wearing my workout clothes as regular goddamn attire, doesn’t mean I am super reserved. You are just an animal.” 

“I dunno, I think ya are. I didn’t say that was bad though,” he raised his hands up defensively, swinging his legs fully, so that the inside of each knee rested on the outside of Vegeta’s calves. No one was in the training room with them and the gesture was discreet enough that Vegeta didn’t recoil from it immediately. He did flick him directly in the middle of the forehead, however, earning a sharp whine. “Hey—I just mean, it’s not like you’re on display in any way whatsoever, ‘Geta.”

“Do you want me to be?!” 

“I worded that badly! What I mean is, you don’t even take off your T-shirt to lift. You wear your shirts up to the top buttons. I know you don’t got any of that decoration stuff, an’ I guess I just thought there was a reason for it. Appearance kinda thing. Culture kinda thing. I dunno. No one really cares here. I mean, even I have a tattoo that people can see.” He gestured to the hint of the dragon peeking from over his shoulder. “Trunks probably won’t even be looked at twice about it, but maybe your culture’s different?” 

“I….” He frowned and sneered a little, settling his posture into one that was slightly less prickly in response to Kakarot not being entirely wrong. “Maybe I am, but I carry myself with pride, Kakarot. Maybe you don’t mind looking like a mess all the time, but I do.” 

“You definitely don’t look like a mess. You just act like one,” Kakarot pointed and immediately squawked at Vegeta’s damn near instant reaction of lifting his foot to kick him off the weightlifting bench. 

“Oh you are one to fucking talk—you are the hottest mess I’ve ever seen.” 

“Vegeta, c’mon, don’t be so loud about it, people might talk,” Kakarot cackled a bit, and scrambled out of his reach with the bar between them. He knew what Vegeta meant, but being his second language often left Kakarot playing into his choices of phrasing and turning them against him for the wrong reasons. Vegeta hadn’t realized hot also meant attractive when he first showed up. Realizing his mistake in using common sayings he’d picked up, he snatched the water bottle by the bench and nailed him with it. 

“Asshole. I’m going to take your son and let him get whatever damn holes in him he wants too, for what it’s worth. Hell, if they want to dress like unkempt fucking hooligans like you, why not?” 

“To be fair, I’m always outside doin’ stuff—” Kakarot popped up and straightened himself out, but he kept his distance. He even went as far as to take the water bottle Vegeta had thrown to him and open it up to drink. “I don’t really do dressy shirts well. They rip an’ stuff… It doesn’t make sense to wear what you wear. Besides, you make it look better, anyway.” 

“Don’t you try to flatter me, Kakarot.” 

“I’m not, I like your look. I couldn’t deal with that many buttons, I’d never close ‘em all myself, but I don’t mind takin’ em off you,” a faint curl tugged at the corner of his mouth and Vegeta could see the smirk forming and he felt his blood bubbling just a little, heated from this man’s audacity. 

“You’re going to be socked in the fucking throat in a minute.” 

“Hey, you gonna get some piercings too? Get you some earrings, bet you’d tear up the break room with talk,” Kakarot spoke, even as he backed away, knowing he was just stepping on eggshells for the sake of getting under his skin. “That’d be pretty wild, not gonna lie!” 

Vegeta reached him, after stalking him across the weight room to stare him up, lamenting that Kakarot had him towered by a full head in height. He would love to the one glaring down at him, but he didn’t have the leverage. He still managed to get the same effect, however, when the big fool was shrunk back with his arms up in defense, waiting for his thrashing. 

That was sufficient enough. 

“I’m leaving now, Kakarot. Don’t forget the chickens. I will be home late and if you forget them, they will be mad at you. And I won’t listen to you whining about it later when they all pick at you angrily.” 

“The chickens are just like you,” he murmured wistfully and then quickly changed his tone to save himself from actually being punished. “...Okay. Have a good time. Tell Trunks he’s a good kid and I support him. An’ if he wants a tattoo next, I got a guy.” 

“He’s not getting a damn tattoo, Kakarot. Don’t push it.” 

“Back to being a prude again, but that’s okay, that’s what makes you, you,” he quickly shot his eyes around to check, before he leaned forward and caught Vegeta on the mouth in a quick peck. He promptly received the swift flat end of Vegeta’s palm, right across his cheek. He deserved it, and the struck dismay in Kakarot’s face told a short story of Kakarot also coming to arrive at the conclusion that he’d earned that ending beyond any reasonable doubt. “Ow—” 

“Bye Kakarot. Chickens. Don’t forget them.” 

He left him without another word, to clean up their work station. Kakarot antagonized himself into cleanup duty alone as well, and Vegeta had no remorse. He had to go be the accepting and open minded father that he never had, to try and break generations of prudish repression that Kakarot may or may not have been somewhat correct about. Appearances were everything in the past of his family, but he was not with his family anymore. Nor did the status of him in his family mean he had to abide by some social appearance laws… 

That was how Kakarot’s needling and his own insecurities ended with Vegeta coming home with a pierced tongue and hearing a rare obscenity out of Kakarot. Not often did Kakarot swear significantly, but when he stuck his tongue out to hear a swift, “holy shit” come back at him... 

It might have been worth it. 

Show you who’s a prude, Kakarot.


	4. To A Man’s Heart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Theme: Secret Santa

“Home!”

The sound of keys dropping on the table by the door, followed the voice announcing his presence and Vegeta expected him to come rushing into the kitchen shortly after. Kakarot knew he was in trouble and he didn’t even have to guess. He was late on the one time that Vegeta had expected him to not be, but he should have known better than to rely on Kakarot and his sense of time. The man had a damn watch, but it was a curious thing if he knew how to actually read it.

“Ooh, smells good in here—“ Sure enough, he appeared just after, looking like he’d spent the whole afternoon wrestling with pigs; and knowing Kakarot, he probably had. “Oh, man, are you cooking those whatchamacallits again—.” He came over with intent, but Vegeta just about left a permanent imprint of the spoon on his forehead from the slap, stopping him in his tracks. Because, oh no, he wasn’t.

“Halt, you buffoon. I told you to be on time. And you are not on time.”

“I’m...on time. It’s...four thirty-two. I got here at four thirty...I was technically on time,” he argued, brows turned upward, face scrunched, and leaving a firmly pitiful, pouty expression. 

“On time means you look presentable at four-thirty, Kakarot—“ he cracked the spoon against his forehead again, knowing the sound was louder than the strength of his strike. It would honestly take his whole fist to really put any damage on him and even that seemed to do nothing more than start a fight that ended up being more enjoyment than it should be. When people at work asked if there were domestic issues at home and he had to explain that—no—they were just like that, then he knew that a spoon to the forehead was probably not even a sufficient warning. 

“I can take a quick shower—ten minutes tops, it’ll be fine. They’re not here for another thirty and everything else is ready. It’s not a big deal.”

“Twenty-five minutes and it is a big deal to me! Your father walked in, shook my hand and asked me why I was wasting my life with a dipshit and it was funny. If my father walks in and says the same thing because you’re not making the right impression, then it’s going to be crushing! And he doesn’t even know that...this is a thing—Kakarot. He probably thinks he’s going to come in and be greeted by a really unusual, strong, manly farmer woman, because I haven’t told him you’re not.”

“I mean...I could wear a dress if it makes you feel more secure? Wouldn’t be the first time I—”

“Fucking—go shower before I change my mind and tell him you died and that’s why he can never meet you.” He barked at him, threatening him with the spoon again. The defensive position that Kakarot took, with his hands up and backing away, soothed him just a little. That meant that at least he was being taken seriously. “And don’t you even look into this kitchen, you’ve lost your taste testing privileges. The boys already beat you to it. They at least showed up on time and helped me.” 

Kakarot pouted from a few steps back, then frowned turning his face into an open palm and folding the other arm to rest his free hand into the crook of his elbow. Sulking. “Suck ups—”

“You could stand to suck up just a little more, Kakarot, then you won’t be the one being cast out!” He barked again, bristling in advance when he recognized the shift in his expression. 

“I’ll have ya know I got no problem su—” 

“OUT—” The spoon left his hand and nailed Kakarot even as he tried to flee the room. “I’m so close to canceling you—” He yelled after him and flung a drawer open to get a new spoon and quickly attend the boiling pot on the stove. Kakarot’s distraction wasn’t going to ruin his preparation for his guests, even if he’d partially made this specific dish because he was attempting to bribe good behavior out of Kakarot. It was his favorite traditional saiyan food that he made and Kakarot had taken to it so much, that he could actually be marginally controlled for the promise of it. 

If he’d shown up on time, he’d have gotten to try some before preparing the rest for his father and the person he was bringing with him. But instead, he’d have to suffer with the delicious smells in the house and knowing that Vegeta’s hard glare was a threatening, “do not fucking touch until you’re told you can”. For an unexplained reason, he was mad about that. He made them mostly for Kakarot, for fuck’s sake—

Stirring the pot with more aggression than he should, he glared down into the blending ingredients, recalling the first time he made it for the dumb asshole. He was glaring down at the pot then, too, because he had come to the conclusion that he had no idea what else to do but resort to food when trying to fill a gift idea for someone who never appeared to openly want anything. Kakarot hadn’t given any useful hints and Vegeta hadn’t actually anticipated getting a difficult person for a Secret Santa exchange. He’d never even done the damn exchange before until then and he only relented because he’d been bullied into it. Seeing Kakarot’s name nearly made him want to set the paper on fire and rescind his agreement to participation. 

But Vegeta didn’t quit. No, instead he agonized for a week about what he was supposed to buy for a goofy fool who didn’t seem to have any wants, until he finally determined that he could appeal to the animal side of him. Food. Just feed it and it will suffice. Unfortunately, feeding it meant that he was found out before the end of the week, because when Kakarot loudly determined it was the best thing he’d ever had, he knew he’d made a critical error. The follow up question of “who made this?” meant that eventually, everyone else was going to answer no, until Vegeta was last remaining participant to be interrogated. Adding to it, his food was culturally unlike most of their local taste. 

Kakarot only took as long as he did to figure him out, because Vegeta managed to avoid him for a whole week. And Kakarot only showed up to confront him because he was apparently getting puffy about Vegeta missing that many days of lifting weights with him after classes. The fact that he was the elusive secret santa food maker only came out after an extreme argument and a session of punching each other back and forth in an empty locker room. Honestly, it was very good that no one ever walked in on them. 

He remembered being so embarrassed, but Kakarot had clapped his hands together in front of his bruised face and simply asked him to make more. Just like that. No shame. Invited him to his house to use his bigger kitchen and offered to buy the supplies if he would.

That was how he ended up in Kakarot’s house. And then in his bed. That wasn’t supposed to happen, but it had. 

Could that be considered a fond memory? Probably, but he didn’t have to actually acknowledge that. Instead, he picked up a fork and stabbed it into a piece of meat somewhere in the pot. It was ready to be set into the pan to bake with the wraps, but he could feel the returned presence behind him and he absently stuck the forked end over his shoulder, to the delight of an open mouth that bit right down on it. 

“Mmmfph, hot—but, so good,” Kakarot muffled around chewing and Vegeta sneered a little bit back in his direction. He only caved to give him a taste because he made it for him and that was the fastest shower he’d ever taken... but that was it. He was back to being punished. 

“That’s all you get. Dry your damn hair. What did I tell you about looking presentable?” 

“Says the guy with a bar through his tongue. What’s dad gonna say about that?” Kakarot stuck his own tongue out at him and Vegeta remembered in that moment, that he had done that. Not his wisest move for trying to look sophisticated in front of his father, but he could probably minimize the noticeability of that. His students didn’t say anything if they noticed it. 

“That was caused by your antagonism to begin with,” he scowled, going right back to his task. “I’m far more worried about his reaction to you than anything I do.” 

Kakarot leaned against the counter and watched him, with a towel over his head to soak up the excess water. He would shake it free and comb it in a hurry probably right as the door rang, if Vegeta knew this man. “How bad can it be? What’s he like?” 

“Imagine, Kakarot...he’s like me, but grouchier and taller. And likes people even less than I do.” 

“Oh...Good. So I’m basically doomed.” 

“Yes, probably. It’s not too late to run away and let me pretend I’ve actually just been living out here alone, without some knucklehead ruining my perfectly good image. No, you won’t, instead I’m coming out of the closet, with you.” He shook his head, watching Kakarot leave with the towel fluffing his hair, at the last minute. Naturally. 

When the oven door closed on his final product and the timer set, Vegeta glanced over at the clock and exhaled, knowing he was expecting him any minute. His father was never late to anything without an exceptional reason and Kakarot living out in the country with an address unnumbered would likely be the only reason he would be any bit delayed. Even so, he was not surprised at all to hear a knock on the door come right at the time he knew it should. He hadn’t heard the vehicle pull up over the boys playing their games in the living room, but the knock was definitely his father’s. Strong and commanding attention. 

“I got it.” 

It was not Vegeta who spoke it, but Kakarot, and Vegeta nearly dropped what he was holding when he heard the door open. 

“Heya—! Oh yeah, you’re definitely Vegeta’s dad, resemblance is there, come on in,” Kakarot’s voice carried before Vegeta could make it out of the kitchen and prevent him from interacting with anyone. He didn’t even make it to the kitchen doorway, before he found himself covering his face with his hands. He was supposed to get the door, not Kakarot—

With a deep breath, he steeled himself, and left the kitchen to contain the animal he was about to introduce to his father as his partner.


	5. I Most Likely Probably Do

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Theme: Long Distance Relationship

“Father….This is my partner…” 

“Not exactly what I was expecting, if you want the truth, son,” his father replied and he had an instinct to wince. His reaction was very important. He didn’t yet know what to make of the way his father was looking over Kakarot. At the very least, his father was surprised. While Vegeta had painted as accurate of a picture as he could without telling him outright, he hadn’t exactly painted this picture in the form of a large well-built man. 

“...Yes...Well, I did not really know how to explain...him, over the phone…” He took his own turn looking Kakarot up and down. The subject of their critical glances seemed to be completely unaware that they were scrutinizing him. Well, Kakarot was probably perfectly aware that Vegeta was always scrutinizing him, but the measure of which they were grading him—like some kind of stock—probably went lost in that moment. If the dumb smile he had, told Vegeta anything. 

Not to say that Kakarot wasn’t attractive; he had a boyish charm that was frustratingly effective, but he was also a wild animal in behavior at times and he definitely looked a little less...put together than Vegeta. Kakarot had his shirt unbuttoned halfway down his chest, untucked, and still damp hair. While Vegeta looked like he was prepared for a job interview. The difference was presentation. Kakarot had none, and relied on people ignoring his appearance for his personality. Which, while admittedly charming in its own way, could come off as strong. 

Vegeta was just hoping that he could reign himself in enough to pass his father’s inspection. 

“You did not explain him in this context at all, no…” 

“It didn’t seem right to do it...with you in another country...But...this is Kakarot...Kakarot, this is my father. Vegeta Senior. You call him Sir and nothing else,” Vegeta gave him the sternest look he could muster and the response he received came as so offended, in a way that Kakarot was trying to imply he would never just up and start calling him dad immediately. He would. He goddamn would. Vegeta knew this. 

“Nice ta meet you, Sir. Now I know I’m not exactly what you were hopin’ to find, probably, comin’ over here, but I just want you to know, that I really love yer son and no matter what he says, I think we’re pretty happy. An’ I’m gonna keep tryin’ to make sure it stays that way. A coupl’a stray fists thrown here an’ there don’t mean nothin’, we just kinda do that. I still love ‘im a whole bunch.” 

Every word Kakarot spoke made Vegeta lose another shade of color in his face, while simultaneously becoming more flustered in the same breath. The contradiction made him light headed and he sucked in a breath and barked swiftly, “Kakarot—” Fists were about to start swinging right there—how dare he say such embarrassing fucking things—how dare he make such admittances—

But his father’s chuckle actually struck him out of his dismay. 

“He is honest. At least. He would have to be quite strong willed to balance you.” He spoke to Vegeta directly in their own language, keeping his partner out of the conversation for the sake of that single comment, before he turned directly to Kakarot and returned a greeting. “Kakarot, I expect you to take good care of my son. You have much more expectation placed on you now.” 

“That’s alright, Vegeta already makes plenty of demands, anyway. What’s one more? Besides, he’s kinda the boss. I kinda like bein’ stepped on a bit and he likes being taken care of. It’s a symbolic relationship.” 

“Symbiotic—And first of all—” Vegeta bristled, feeling himself bowing up at him, ready to fight him. Apparently telling him to be on his best behavior meant absolutely nothing—! Kakarot wasn’t going to withdraw his personality for anything and Vegeta just rubbed his face. Some bit of him was feeling a little relief that his partner being...a man...was remarkably ignored. He had no idea what to expect of his father’s reaction. His relationship with him was through a telephone across the span of several countries. Subtle nuances could be lost when distance was a factor. 

“Hey,” Kakarot cut Vegeta off entirely, earning him the most heated snarl—one that was ignored anyway. “I thought you were bringing someone with ya too. ‘Geta said you got a partner he was gonna meet.” 

“Ah, yes. He’s outside waiting for his son to arrive, so he sees this is the right place. You have no numbers outside to identify this house with.” 

“...I really probably should fix that...but I don’t get mail out here. I gotta go into town to get that, so I never really had a need...But I guess it wouldn’t hurt.” 

Kakarot’s chattering didn’t deflect the words that hit Vegeta and made him turn his face to his father. His imagination wasn’t overplaying what he heard; he definitely heard him say—he. And his instant reaction was to open his mouth and repeat just that, with little sign of intellect to follow it. “...He?” 

Eyes turned back to meet his and he studied his response the entire time. Vegeta was on the border of a crisis for the whole month leading up to this...for what he realized his father was about to come out with, unexpectedly. He….Vegeta realized, suddenly, hadn’t used any pronouns to describe his partner either. His old man had used the same exact tactic and he hadn’t noticed because he was too busy in the process of keeping up his own consistency—

“I never did say it wasn’t a he, son.” 

Oh god, that was actually it. Vegeta had nothing to say outside of his immense shock. He didn’t even he react when Kakarot came over and wrapped an arm around his shoulder. Too much information was coming at him in the span of a single minute and he hadn’t had time to properly sort it. In that instant, he was working out every conversation they’d had about it and he was trying to desperately recall if he’d just missed a detail somewhere. He came up with nothing and continued to draw blanks even as the other two guests came in. 

Immediately, Vegeta was sent right back into confusion when he saw a familiar face enter the house and he opened his mouth and spoke before he tried to think. “Broly? What’s he—” without waiting for the answer, he cut himself off and snapped his head back to see the person he presumed was the one his father was talking about. He nearly howled a loud “what the fuck” at his father, but managed to eat it back down before the words let free. 

“F...father, are you...is that? Is that fucking Paragus?” 

“What a greeting, I see you still haven’t included manners in your son, Vegeta.” 

Yes, that was Paragus. Vegeta stared at his father with so much more judgment than his father stared at Kakarot with, and he waited for an explanation. Because he knew about their history from many years of their back and forth and Vegeta was pretty sure he didn’t understand this at all. “But...Father, I thought he hated you.” 

“Oh, no, he does hate me.” 

“I do hate him.” 

“Then what….” Silence caught him and he became acutely aware of Kakarot, from a momentary chuckle by his ear. The amused way he expressed it, found Vegeta’s attention coming back to him swiftly and he hissed at him for having an arm around him. 

“Gee, Vegeta, they sound familiar.” 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about—” No amount of protesting would sufficiently cover over the truth of it, but damned if Vegeta didn’t try. 

“The hell you don’t,” just grinned at him and closed the door behind them, letting them get comfortable. Dinner had some time left on it before it would be ready and apparently some catching up was in order. But for a brief moment, Kakarot held him back by the door, arm still curled around him. “Do you feel a little better?” 

“...Bewildered. But...I suppose. At least I know we can’t be nearly as dysfunctional as whatever this...fucking thing my father has going on. I guess I’ve really been too far away to gauge what he’s gotten himself into.” 

“Now you can relax a lil bit, though. Enjoy the visit. Let me embarrass you some, and we’ll have a good dinner.” 

Vegeta took him by the chin swiftly, “you will not embarrass me on purpose, Kakarot, or so help me.”

Before Kakarot could utter a word, his own father’s voice filtered in between them, speaking to his grandson from the living room. “Trunks, is that a lip-piercing, boy? 

“Huh? Ah, yeah, I’ve had it for a while. You should see dad’s tongue ring.” 

“Trunks—what the fuck, son—” Vegeta snapped, folding his arms, defensively when his father immediately turned on him to cast some judgment for that decision. 

“Hah, looks like I don’t have to do anything, Trunks is takin’ the lead,” Kakarot grinned, teasing and holding him close; leading him into the room with the rest of them, where they found spots to sit and absently watch the boys try to teach Broly how to play a video game, while the older men observed with marginal interest. Kakarot didn’t pay any attention to it, evidently, keeping his eyes on Vegeta—leaving Vegeta to make a sour face and grunt at him after a moment. 

“What, Kakarot? Do you need something?” 

“Nothin’ pressing. But, since we’re doin’ the big dinner thing with the parents an’ all that, and you don’t gotta answer right away but,” he spoke, quieter than Vegeta understood, until he lifted a hand up so only Vegeta would see what was behind it. Propped and hanging under his thumb glinted the smooth edges of a...ring. 

—Ring?

Eyes widened. “Kaka—” 

“Think about it.” 

Even as Vegeta Senior spoke between them, questioning, “Is everything alright, over there son?”, Vegeta didn’t break eye contact with Kakarot. 

He lifted a hand to take the offending piece out of Kakarot’s hand and mumbled a hasty response to stave off his father’s questioning. “Yeah. Everything’s fine.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Listen no one ever said whose long distance relationship it had to be. It just has to drive the plot. 
> 
> But there you have it, day four. Where I slip my guilty pleasure ship in there at the end because I’m a trash heap but I hope you all enjoyed the massive fluff show!


End file.
